


Paint The Town Red

by Triss_Hawkeye



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Comfort, Gen, Mechanisms-induced death of many background mooks, Murderous rampage treated humorously, Pirates gonna pirate, Short appearance by the rest of the mechs, Smoking, Temporary Character Death, Vitriolic Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triss_Hawkeye/pseuds/Triss_Hawkeye
Summary: A subset of the Mechanisms have some bonding time and loot a town.
Relationships: Ashes O'Reilly & Gunpowder Tim, Bertie/Gunpowder Tim (referenced), Drumbot Brian & Gunpowder Tim, Drumbot Brian & Marius von Raum, Gunpowder Tim & Marius von Raum, Jonny d'Ville & Ashes O'Reilly, Jonny d'Ville & Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 30
Kudos: 114
Collections: Mechs Fic Exchange





	Paint The Town Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaylin881](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaylin881/gifts).



Two things happened as the Aurora entered the atmosphere. The first thing was that the Quartermaster had finally got the crew into some semblance of agreement on a raid plan—their target was one of the manufacturing towns just off the railroad, good prey for spare parts and any other interesting junk they might find. The second thing was that the Toy Soldier stood up and cheerily announced, “Right then! We have decided that we’re going to have a Girl’s Night In, with nail painting, tea, gossip, and unethical science! Any non-girls, please leave the ship immediately!” It gave a beaming smile and promptly marched off towards Ivy’s room. 

Ashes turned to look incredulously at Ivy, Raphaella, and Nastya, stood clustered together by the door to the bridge with the worst of innocent expressions on their faces. For a single, short moment, there was silence.

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Tim griped fifteen minutes later, wiping the blood off his goggles as he left the ship in resignation, Ashes by his side with a slowly reviving Jonny slung over their shoulder. 

Brian stayed up in the bridge a few minutes more, making somewhat of a futile effort to clean away the worst of the viscera before he was impatiently shooed out by Raphaella. On his way to the boarding ramp, he caught up with Marius, who was lingering as if waiting for him.

“Hey,” the self-proclaimed ship’s doctor called, halting his passage with a gentle hand on his chest. “We’re about to go out raiding. What setting are you on?”

Brian gave a small sigh. “Means-justify-ends,” he confessed, the morally right thing to do, however much it frustrated him.

“Okay, so just hear me out,” Marius said in the face of Brian’s glare. “Think about it. If you were to come with us like this, all that would happen is that you’d either stand around being upset or actively get in our way, and that’s not going to help anyone. On the other setting, we can be in and out all the quicker, with marginally less trauma for the townsfolk and substantially less for you. I mean, if it helps, think of it as personal bonding time for us, which you’ll be missing out on. And bonding time is a good means, right?”

Brian stared at him levelly for a good five seconds before he cracked and bent his head down with a soft chuckle, reaching for the switch on the back of his neck. He gave Marius a genial clap on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Always happy to assist in a moral quandary.”

By the time they made it down the boarding ramp, Jonny was conscious again, sat on the ground and griping. “Fuckin’ hypocritical of it,” he growled. “Anyway, what if I want to paint my nails too?”

“We put on a fresh coat together just last night, you insufferable dipshit,” Tim growled, shoulders deep in a crate of weapons. He passed Brian a rifle he knew he liked as the pilot emerged from the ship with Marius, and waved his gunmetal grey nails in Jonny's face before diving back in for a few extra pistols for the ship’s doctor. Brian took the rifle with a slight smile and scanned the town a little way away from them. The townsfolk had seen the spacecraft come in and most of them were currently hurriedly evacuating, households bundling onto trucks in a panic and driving out of town in plumes of orange dust, while a small militia stayed and began to build a barricade. 

“Unfortunate souls,” he muttered. He watched as one of the people climbed onto a roof, looking like they might be setting up to snipe. 

“Unfortunate souls we’re all going to kill in just a minute, including you,” Ashes remarked.

“Just because we’re going to have to kill them doesn’t mean I can't have a little sympathy for their plight,” Brian replied mildly, bringing his own gun up to his eye and taking a moment to adjust his lenses, line up the shot just right—and then with a ripping noise like lightning just before the thundercrack, a laser beam lanced through the air, and the figure on the roof jerked and dropped to the ground. Brian lowered the rifle with a nod of satisfaction.

“Good man!” said Jonny, clapping him on the shoulder and drawing his own pistol, mouth twisted into a demented grin. “Now, let’s slaughter the rest of them!” He set off at a scampering run straight in the direction of the town and the rising barricade. Calmly, Brian raised the rifle to his eye once more. With another electrical crack, Jonny’s head exploded and his still-running body skidded into the dirt. 

“Nicely done!” said Tim, taking his own turn to express approval with a savage grin. He sniggered. “What a tool.”

Ashes looked over at Brian with a raised eyebrow. 

Brian shrugged back. “We’d planned out tactics and everything back on the bridge. Jonny charging in like an idiot would just ruin it.”

Ashes conceded with a ‘fair enough’ nod. “Right folks, you know the drill,” they said, tossing a comms unit to each person still standing. “Tim—circle left and get up on a roof, pick ‘em off from above while letting us know the situation on the ground.”

“You got it,” Tim replied, catching the comms unit in one hand and slinging an extra rifle over his shoulder with the other. 

“Marius, you’re with me—we’re going to circle right and get in via the back alleys.”

“Sure thing.”

“Brian, you head right down the centre nice and slow, and look intimidating. You’re already off to a good start.”

“Fine—but you know, even though bullets don’t actually hurt me they’re still a hassle to pry out of my joints.”

Ashes snorted dismissively. “You’ll be fine. By the time you’re within range for them to have a chance of hitting you, we’ll already be right behind them.”

“And Jonny?”

They approached his corpse, still spread-eagled on the ground, with most of the contents of his head sprayed out around him. 

“He’s staying down a bit long, don’t you think?” Tim remarked casually, as if commenting on the weather.

Ashes shook their head. “He’s just being dramatic. He’ll come around once he’s stopped sulking.” They slid a comms unit into his flung-out hand, along with a cigarette. 

“He’ll feel better once he gets to shoot people,” Marius added. 

“That he will. Right folks, have fun, cause carnage, but at least try to be efficient about it—we’re here for supplies, not a party. Got it? Let’s go.”

By the time Jonny barrelled into town, cackling in mad bloodthirsty delight, the defenders were already in disarray, the barricade in shambles, and the rough streets taking on a fresh new coat of deep red. He fired shot after shot, his manic laughter echoed by Tim's from the rooftop, and revelled in the cut-off wails of the doomed townsfolk as they crumpled to the ground before his rampage. 

One of them raised their head in disgust. “That was _me_ you twat!” Marius yelled after him.

“You’re welcome!” Jonny yelled back in a sing-song voice, disappearing down the street. 

Marius lay there in a grump, until Brian emerged from where he’d been sorting the remnants of the barricade into ‘useful’, ‘potentially useful’, ‘trash’, and ‘Jonny might like this’, and offered him a hand up. Marius brushed down his frock coat, prodding a fresh bullet hole in the nice green fabric with disapproval, and then looked Brian up and down. 

“We’re going to need to loot you a new coat,” he said, noting that the offending garment was more hole than fabric at this point. “I don’t think Jonny’s tailoring skills are going to stretch to that one.”

Brian lifted his arms to demonstrate the rattling of bullets that had got inside his casing. “Well, at least the distraction worked," he said stoically. "How’s the raid?” 

“Looks like Jonny cleared out most of the rest of them. Let’s find the others.”

The others were found towards the end of an alley strewn with corpses, facing down one final fighter with his back against a merciless brick wall, clutching his empty gun with a defiant expression on his face.

“You and your people fought well, I’ll give you that,” Jonny said around an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, as he took his time loading bullets into his pistol. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll even write a song about you.” He leered and cocked the weapon.

A shot rang out, and the final militiaman fell anticlimactically to the floor. “What the fuck?” Jonny snarled, still midway through raising his gun.

“You were taking too long!” Tim yelled down from the rooftop.

“I was giving him a worthy send-off!”

“You were gloating!” 

“All right, shut the fuck up boys,” Ashes interjected. “Time for a smoke break. Loot what you like down here and meet up at the warehouse in an hour.”

“Oh _finally_ ,” said Marius, kneeling down to go through the pockets of the nearest body. Without even looking, Ashes raised a gun and shot his ear off.

“Actually _fuck you!_ ” he shrieked. “What was that for?”

“I already laid claim to the bodies in this alley. Go find your own. And hey, at least I didn’t shoot any more holes in your coat. Like _some_ people.”

Jonny glowered at Ashes while Marius gave them the finger as he slunk away. 

“Why do you have an unlit cigarette in your mouth anyway, Jonny?”

“Don’t have a light on me. Must’ve dropped out of my pocket when _someone_ sniped me.” He fixed his glower on Brian, who rolled his eyes and elected to follow Marius’ example.

“Oh stop your whining, come here.” Ashes lit up and let Jonny light his cigarette from the tip of their own. They stood in silence for a minute or two, leant side-by-side against the brick wall, blowing smoke skulls. Ashes snuffed out the butt with their boot heel. “A’right. Wanna help me go through these bodies?”

Up on the roof, Tim took his time packing up his rifle and surveying the land around, which was a truly stunning desert, full of reds and oranges, teeming with tiny reptilian creatures that his eyes could pick out scurrying over the rugged rock formations, a landscape marred only by the railroad and a now worse-for-wear manufacturing town. He gave a contented sigh before sliding down a drainpipe into the alley.

Jonny acknowledged his entrance with a grunt, and Ashes beckoned him over to where they’d lined up the weapons they’d taken off the fighters. “You can get first pick of the guns and ammo. Looks all pretty standard for this sector, nothing special, but if you see something you like you can grab it.”

“Thanks boss,” Tim smirked, earning a withering look from Jonny. He squatted down to examine the firearms, and pocketed a magazine engraved with its owner’s name, or perhaps the name of a loved one, before moving out into the street.

“Sentimental git!” Ashes called after him.

“So what? I like collecting souvenirs.”

He came across Marius a little way down the road, still scowling as he rummaged through a knapsack for anything of interest. He had half a mind to let the man continue to sulk, but decided he was in a good enough mood to show some mercy. 

“Hey,” he offered. “Let’s team up. I’m only interested in the weaponry anyway. Or maybe a nice belt. A load more carked it in a courtyard a little further up, I'm headed up there.”

Marius raised his eyebrows, as if expecting a catch, but eventually shrugged and got to his feet. “Yeah, all right.”

True to his word, Tim paid very little attention to anything but the guns, weighing them in his hands and test-firing them into windows while muttering to himself about grips and recoil. Marius held up a particularly interesting ring to one eye and tried to figure out whether the stone was real nebulite or not. 

“Hey Tim, are you absolutely sure you’re only after the guns?”

Tim looked over and snorted. “Keep the shiny stuff, Marius. Trinkets are more your thing anyway, you magpie.”

“Suit yourself,” Marius murmured, pocketing the ring and resolving to find Tim a nice belt anyway.

They worked together in companionable quiet, punctuated by gunshots, until Jonny showed up, looking uncharacteristically subdued. “Here, Tim,” he said flatly. “Something for you.”

Slightly confused, Tim held out one hand and Jonny dropped something into it. He studied it for a moment, then shot Jonny in the throat and stormed off. Marius looked on in bewilderment as Jonny sat back up, rubbing his neck and wincing.

“What was all that about?”

“Yeah… figured that would happen,” was all Jonny said in response.

Tim stumbled away out to the back of town, flushed and dizzy, and flung himself down onto a crate. He’d shot Jonny so the first mate wouldn’t see Tim’s face screwing up in agony, though it was probably already too late for that. A painful heat swelled behind his eyes, a pressure with nowhere to go. He gritted his teeth and tried to swallow it down, clutching his head in his hands and trying to distract himself by singing. He could barely get out a strangled hum through the lump in his throat at first, but eventually the words resolved themselves into one of the old songs from the lunar trenches.

“Up to your waist in Moon-mud, up to your eyes in slush…”

“...using the kind of language that’ll make your sergeant blush,” a voice echoed the tune back at him.

Tim looked up to see Brian standing nearby, ragged coat discarded in exchange for a set of some kind of overalls. Upon being acknowledged, he sat down next to Tim, butting shoulders gently. Tim remained stiff for a moment then leaned in, resting his head against Brian’s shoulder. “Where’ve you been?” he mumbled.

“I decided I’d get a head-start on organising the warehouse for appraising,” Brian replied. “But then I noticed a friend in distress.”

“Hm.” Tim gave a soft chuckle. He held out a hand, still clutching the dog tags that Jonny had dropped into it.

“The… Beta Scuti Military?” Brian queried. “I’m not familiar.”

“Nah, that’s not important. It’s this.” He indicated the service number beneath the force name. “That number. It’s seared into my brain. It was... it was Bertie’s.”

Brian nodded in understanding. He wrapped both arms around Tim, pulling him against his chest, warm with the constant whir of machinery, if not with blood. Tim relaxed against his body, slowly breathing away the tears that could never be shed, while Brian stroked his hair soothingly. 

“I think it’s wonderful that you still love him so much,” the pilot murmured. “I hope one day that thing will be able to bring you joy rather than sorrow.”

“They never do,” Tim sighed. “But thanks anyway.” He sat up slowly, rubbing his neck, then gave a sidelong glance to Brian. “You’re being awfully nice,” he noted. “Did you swap settings again?"

“I’m always nice,” Brian complained, in a blatant lie. 

“Okay wait, so if you were on EJM, what were you being nice for?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“Yes!”

Brian sighed. “Well, the best way to get you back into a good enough state to help finish our mission is to provide comfort and raise your spirits,” he began. “But—”

“Ugh, I _knew_ it.” Tim rolled his eyes and stomped off towards the warehouse.

“Wait!” Brian cried, following behind. “Tim, I still _like_ you—”

With a lot of the prep work already done by Brian, loading up a truck with the most useful contents of the warehouse and collecting anything of value left in the town didn’t take long. Brian swung himself into the driver’s seat, and Marius called shotgun by successfully killing everybody else with a shotgun, leaving them to walk back to the ship on foot. If either Ashes or Jonny noticed the new set of dog tags hanging around Tim’s neck, they declined to comment on it. 

“Should be Captain’s prerogative to automatically get shotgun,” Jonny grumbled.

“Well, it’s a good job you’re not Captain then, isn’t it?” Ashes deadpanned. "Nice new belt, by the way Tim."

“Yeah, thanks, Marius found it for me."

It took the rest of the day to load up the ship with the spoils, and the suns were low on the horizon when they finally closed up the cargo bay. 

Marius stretched and rolled his shoulders. “Well, I’d hop back on board properly, but since it’s only just nightfall, I imagine the ‘night’ part of the Girl’s Night In is just beginning.”

“Mm. And I’m not exactly feeling masochistic enough to volunteer to be the subject of unethical science,” Tim added.

“What if  _ I’m _ feeling masochistic enough to vol—”

Jonny was stopped with three cries of, “No!!”, a shot to the head, and Brian sitting very firmly down on his body to stop him from doing anything that everyone would regret later.

Marius frowned. “Where’d Ashes go?”

“Oh, Ashes has been absent for the past two hours,” Brian replied serenely. “But since no one else noticed, I surmised that the job would get done far more efficiently if I didn’t point it out.”

“You little  _ shit _ —”

“Nice work fellas,” came Ashes’ voice from the direction of town. They strolled up casually with an empty jerry can slung over one shoulder, flicking a lighter in their spare hand. They were met by a set of three glares that presently became four as Jonny came around.

“Nah, don’t be like that. It was a good trip. I think we've earned our own party.” They dropped the lighter to the ground, where it lit a trail of gasoline back to the town. A giant fireball erupted from the centre street, and soon the entire place was ablaze. Ashes pulled a huge squishy bag out of their coat. “Now, who’s for marshmallows?”

Night fell upon the orange desert, sky bright with a galaxy of stars, and the still-warm breeze carried the sound of owls, campfire singing, and the crackle of a strangely large bonfire down the railroad and into the vast, dusty plains.


End file.
